If Only Two Then What?
by Kazuki Naruse
Summary: Before Mary's secret is revealed to everyone, an exit appears, but only two of them can go through it. What will happen? I hope you guys like it! :D To the guest who requested a sequel, please PM me (or write a second review including your name) so I can dedicate it to you! :D I will try to write it as soon as possible!
1. Chapter 1

"Hey... Ib... Uh... " Mary hesitated, looking down at the carpeted ground below them. "If only two of us could get out of here... then what?" She looked at Ib, her eyebrows furrowed. She felt for the rose in her pocket, the thin paper reassuring beneath her eternally cold fingers.

"If only two of us could make it out, I'd sacrifice myself." There was no hesitation in her soft, shy voice. Her face was completely serious, not a hint of doubt.

"Wha! Really, Ib? But then you'd never see your mom again!" A pain spread in Mary's heart as she mentioned Ib's mother. She wished she could find a mother of her own. "It would be really lonely, you know?" She looked down as those words tumbled from her mouth, desperately trying to keep the tears out of her eyes. "Don't say things like that..." She didn't want to think of her new friend living alone in this cold, lifeless world. She knew the pain of the terrible loneliness this empty gallery brings. "We'll leave together!" She turned to face Ib, reaching out and clasping one of Ib's small hands in her own. "Promise!" She smiled.

Ib shivered, the icy coldness from Mary's hands coursing through her veins. She mirrored Mary's smile.

"Let's go!" Mary said, grinning. She tugged on Ib's hand, leading her down the hallway.

The rainbow bridge closed the gap in the now-colorful room. Carefully crossing to the other side, Mary glanced down at the table. There was a small, brown key resting on the wooden surface. Mary picked up the key, silently looking at Ib.

Ib held her hand out for the key, remembering the locked door next to the fisherman painting. Mary handed it to her. The key felt cold in her palm, as cold as Mary's hands.

She shivered again, looking at Mary. Something was strange about her... She had a cold, rather dark aura. Her voice was somewhat raspy, sounding like paper rubbing together.

Taking the lead, Ib walked back across the rainbow bridge with Mary following behind her. They returned to the large room that acted like a sort of hallway, replenishing their roses in the vase before walking to the large brown door.

Hesitantly, with Mary close behind her, Ib slid the key into the lock. It turned easily with a _click._ Carefully grabbing the cool, steel doorknob, Ib pushed open the door.

A short hallway greeted her, followed by a set of stairs heading downwards. On the wall opposite of the stairs sat a portrait of some strange creature with it's mouth open.

Suddenly, Mary gripped Ib's arm. Turning around, Ib knew from her wide eyes and pale face that Mary was scared. What she was scared of, however, was unknown.

Ib could not hear the sing-song voice coming from the walls.

"I know Mary's secret!" It said. Mary understood what that meant. Garry must have seen the book.

What would happen when he told Ib? She wondered. What would happen when both of them knew she came from a painting?

Would they accept her? Would they try to get rid of her? What would they do?

Noticing Ib's gaze, Mary released her arm. "Sorry..." She said, looking down. "I-I thought I'd heard something."

Ib turned back to the staircase. The stair way was wide and the stairs were tall, a bit too high for Ib's short legs. She half stepped, half hopped down the stairs. Mary followed close behind her. Her footsteps were far too silent. Any normal person would have made at least a little nose hopping down the wooden stairs.

There was another picture on the wall at the bottom of the stairs. It was disturbingly similar to the first one, as though the two were connected.

The door gave way to a large room, around the same size as the one they had just exited. There was a vase sitting on a table against the wall.

More out of habit than anything else, Ib walked to the vase and dropped her rose into the cool blue water.

She heard a muffled murmur coming from somewhere behind her. Turning around, she looked through the room. There was nobody nearby. The sound seemed to be coming from somewhere behind the wall.

Hesitantly, she walked towards the wall, half-expecting something to come bursting out of the wall. Nothing came out. The wall never moved. The voice got clearer.

It was then that she realized she knew the voice. The voice, a little higher pitch that she was used to, belonged to Garry. He was talking to someone.

Following the wall, she turned the corner and headed towards the door. As she got closer, she was able to understand a few words in his sentences.

"That...So?" She could hear him giggling, high-pitched and girly.

A few more steps forward. "Ahahaha... Oh sure." A pause. "Sometimes, yeah, yeah."

Before Ib could walk forward again, Mary gripped her arm with cold, dry hands. "I hear someone talking." she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She had been so preoccupied with her fears that she hadn't been paying attention until that moment.

"Don't see that every day, right?" Garry said. "I just ran out you see." There was a pause. Despite Mary's reluctance, Ib moved forward. "Oh, I really love it. But it takes a while for sure..." Mary's grip on Ib's arm tightened. She didn't know Garry well enough to recognize his voice.

The two had reached a corner. Turning right, they saw a purple door. The door was open, Garry's voice was louder, coming from inside the room. "Oh, you too? Why, we certainly do get along, don't we? Ohohohoh." The laughter sent a chill down Ib's spine. It was uncharacteristic and creepy.

"Is he... talking to someone?" Mary asked, her wide eyes meeting Ib's. Her fingernails dug into Ib's skinny arm. Ib's anxiousness was reflected in her dark red eyes. She too felt something was wrong.

She glanced at the doorknob, momentarily weighing her options. She could go into the room and see Garry, but what if it wasn't Garry in that room? The voice was definitely his, but...

There was no way to get out of this area, after all, the door to the stairs had locked behind them. Even if she could go back, she couldn't push the statue away from the other staircase, and the rest of the rooms offered no exit.

Sighing, she decided finding Garry was her only hope for escape. He might know of another exit, one she and Mary could not find on their own. If there was a chance Garry was in that room, she knew she had to go in.

The doorknob was cold beneath her fingers. Holding her breath, she turned the doorknob and pushed the purple door open.

The scene that was contained within the purple room was utterly baffling. Ib's red eyes widened and her eyebrows disappeared into her bangs.

There were three wooden tables on each side of the room, pushed up against the wall. On those tables sat little porcelain bunnies, white and pink with red eyes. A large portrait of a pink bunny with red eyes hung against the back wall, opposite to the door. More bunnies littered the floor.

In the middle of the bunny infested floor sat Garry, leisurely lounging in front of a green bunny, the only green bunny in the whole room. His face was paler, his silver-purple hair hanging in front of his eyes.

"Garry?" Mary hesitantly asked from beside Ib.

"Hoho! You're really quite entertaining, you know that? I feel like I could talk to you about my every worry... Ahahahaha..." The nervous laughter was the only part that sounded even remotely like the Garry Ib knew. His voice was lighter and higher than usual, the tentativeness gone. His usually polite speech was butchered and informal.

With worry clouding her eyes, Ib walked closer to Garry, her steps small and slow.

"Huh! Never heard that before... Can you give me the details?" His voice sent a chill down Ib's spine. "No, no, I won't tell anyone. Your secret's safe with me!" The cheerful tone of his words was disturbingly cold, lacking all warmth that was always in his voice.

He sat back. "Whaaa? I don't believe it!" His eyes grew wider as he suddenly leaned forward. From her nearer angle, she could see his pale blue eyes. They were glazed over, not focusing on anything. "Really?! Are you for real? 'Cause that's disgusting! Who'd do that to a girl?! If I saw that happening, I'd tell them off for sure!"

There was a pause, as though he was listening to someone's response. Neither Mary nor Ib were speaking.

"Troubled? I know the feeling. You just feel helpless sometimes. You know you can't run away, but nothing goes well either... Wonder why?" He sighed. Ib tapped on his shoulder. He didn't turn towards her. "Yeah, that works too. It's nice to not have to think. Just forgetting all the bad thing... Ahaha, oh yes! I'm with you there!" His cheerfulness was creepier than his words.

"Is this really Garry?" Mary asked, still standing in the doorway. She voice was shaky, quiet. "Something's wrong with him." She insisted. "Maybe it's a fake?" She wanted to leave and was trying to imply that in her tone. She wished Ib would agree with her and they could leave.

She knew Garry was not a fake. She also knew Garry was dangerous, to her at least. Since she had been with Ib since they separated from Garry, she knew he had been the one to figure out her secret.

"I mean, the real Garry wouldn't be here... right?" she insisted. She noticed Ib shifting. "Don't you think so, Ib?" Ib walked towards the green bunny and stood directly in front of Garry, blocking his view. He didn't seem to notice. "Ib?" She was getting desperate, unable to get Ib's attention. She wanted to leave. Garry would eventually lose the rest of his sanity and rot away in the room without even noticing. He would never be able to tell Ib her secret. Ib would never find out. They could become closer friends. They could get out of here together, after all, Garry would take her place in the painting and Mary would finally have a chance to live.

She wanted so dearly to live, to escape this gallery and truly have a life. For this, she had to get rid of Garry, either now or later. She had to send him into the painting.

She took a step forward before stopping, entranced by the scene in front of her eyes. Ib had knelt down in front of Garry, leaning forward and tilting her head to the right, looking deeply into his eyes. She frowned, really noticing how glazed over and dull they had become.

Bringing her thin arm back as far as it would go, she swung forward and slapped Garry. He didn't speak, not even looking in her direction anymore.

"Garry?" She said, her voice soft and almost fragile. Worry was threaded into her voice, very present in her red eyes. What if he didn't snap out of it? she wondered anxiously. What would happen to him if she left him here? How would she get out of the gallery without Garry? She had been fine before she'd met him but now...

Garry groaned, turning towards Ib and distracting her away from her dark thoughts. He blinked twice, the dazed look disappearing from his eyes. They became a bright blue once. "Huh... Ib?" he said, his eyes focusing on her. He looked to the side, seeing Mary for the first time since they'd separated. "And Mary too... What's going on? And where is this? Why are we all here?" He stood, stiffly stretching out his legs as he spoke.

Ib hugged him, wrapping her arms tightly around Garry. She was instantly enveloped by his warmth. She felt comforted, all hear fears melting away.

"Whoa! I-Ib?!" Garry exclaimed. Awkwardly patting her upper back, he added, "Well... I'm not too sure what happened, but you must have been worried." He looked down at her and ruffled her dark brown hair. With sorrowful eyes he said, "Sorry about that...Ib..."

Mary backed out of the room, reaching for the palette knife in the pocket of her green dress. Garry was fine. Ib had somehow woken him up from his trance.

She felt resentment deep inside her. Ib preferred Garry over her. Ib had decided to wake up Garry instead of listening to her.

But it wasn't Ib's fault. Ib hadn't done anything wrong. Garry must have been feeding her lies while they were alone together, before Mary met them. He must have been brainwashing her.

Garry must be stopped.

On the other hand, however, Garry had invited her to join them... Garry had been nice to her from the very beginning, without even knowing who she was...

Her conflicting emotions swirled in her heart. She didn't know what to think. She didn't know what to feel.

"Well... I'd like to say we press ahead, but... My memory is a bit messy so I can't remember what I was doing..." Garry said as he joined Mary outside of the room.

Hope flourished in Mary's heart. Maybe everything would be fine. As long as Garry doesn't remember finding out her secret, Ib would never find out. She could get closer to Ib until the time came for her to push Garry into the painting... In fact, she could even convince Ib that Garry was the fake. Then she and Ib could finally become real friends. They could become very close, close as sisters even, the sister Mary wished she could have.

"Well, you don't really need to remember, do you?" Mary wanted to take those words back the instant she said them. Why would she draw attention to his lost memories? Now he would be more determined to get them back because he would know she didn't want him to remember something. Hoping to divert attention away from her blunder, she cheerfully added, "At least we're back together!" She felt Ib staring at her from behind. Ib must have realized she was hiding something, something that was contained in Garry's memories...

Garry hadn't seemed to notice. "I suppose that's true... But I feel like I'm forgetting something important... I wonder what it was..."

Her diversion hadn't worked. He was still trying to remember. She had to keep them moving, to keep them distracted. "Anyway, let's go!" she said, trying to seem enthusiastic even though she was deathly afraid of what could happen. "We found some stairs."

Garry glanced at her, raising an eyebrow before replying, "All right, then. Let's give it our best shot." He glanced at Ib, who nodded her silent agreement before taking the lead. Stopping by the vase, both Garry and Ib deposited their roses, even though they had no use for it.

Mary hung back. If she took out her rose, they would instantly know. The rose would crumple in the water. She was able to block her rose from Ib's view and pretend to replenish it, but Garry was much taller and would be able to look over her shoulder. He would instantly figure out that something was wrong...

Ib had a strange expression on her face when she turned around to look at Mary. She was definitely suspicious of something.

Mary felt panic blossoming inside her. Had Garry said something? Had he been whispering in her ear while the two of them were standing at the vase? Had he only been pretending to forget Mary's secret so as to throw her off?

Garry turned around and stared at the both, a confused look on his face. He looked from Ib to Mary and back again, raising an eyebrow. If he was acting, he was very convincing.

Without uttering a single word, Ib walked past Mary and retook the lead. She walked out the door she and Mary had come through only minutes before, somehow knowing that it would be open. Garry and Mary followed close behind her.

She stopped a few feet to the right of the door, standing just between the door and the stairs. She was staring at the right-most wall. Mary stared too.

"What is it?" Garry asked, glancing towards the wall.

"The door." Mary said, pointing to an ebony door in the middle of the wall. "It wasn't there before... Right, Ib?" Standing on Mary's right, Ib nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"Shall we go through it?" Garry asked nervously, also questioning the sudden appearance of a new door.

Instead of answering, Ib walked forward, stopping a few inches from the door. She listened carefully. There were no sounds coming from the other side of the doorway. She reached out and touched the doorknob with the tip of her fingers. It was cool.

Mary stood beside her. She glanced at Ib, waiting for confirmation. Instead of expressing it verbally, she grabbed the doorknob and twisted, pushing open the new door.

The room she found was dark, so dark she couldn't see her feet.

"I don't like this." Mary vocalized what all three were thinking. "It's too dark."

Fishing through his pocket, Garry pulled out the lighter. It was old and a little rusted, it's light very weak, but the small flame provided comfort, if nothing else.

The room was small, very narrow. The light bounced off the green painted walls, revealing a strange lack of portraits or decorations.

Swallowing her fear, Ib took a few more steps forward, followed closely by Garry and Mary. Nothing moved in the darkness aside from the three companions. All were listening carefully for the telltale sound of a painting falling or stone feet scraping across the wooden floors beneath them.

Something gleamed in the dim light from Garry's lighter. They were all approaching a wall. That wall was a floor to ceiling window.

Cautiously pressing up against the window, Ib peered through. It appeared to be dark, except for a small area in the right side of her peripheral vision. Locating the small peephole of light, Ib peered through. The first thing she saw was a white reception desk with pamphlets on the left side. On the wall behind the desk there was a poster advertising a part of an exhibit. Between the wall and the counter stood a man. He was rather short and had gray hair...

Ib recognized him and the scene before her instantly. She was staring at the lobby of the museum.

A knock on her right startled her and killed her excitement. Ib, Garry, and Mary were all tensed and ready to run the moment something broke through the wall and came at them. The seconds ticked by, all of them straining their ears for the sound of breaking plaster. The light flickered.

There was total silence. On the wall in front of them, words appeared, sloppily scrawled in red paint.

"Only two may go through. The last must find their own way out."

Each of the three read the words silently. Only Ib fully understood what they meant.

Before she could explain, a rumbling sound interrupted the nervous silence. The ground shook. Nearly losing her balance, Ib clung to Garry's arm. He was ready to sprint off in the opposite direction and carry Ib with him if anything attacked.

The window shattered. Glass shards rained down and scattered on the ground. Where darkness had once been, a doorway appeared, revealing a familiar, welcome scene.

Light flooded over the three, easily overshadowing the small flicker of Garry's light. All stared in awe. The gallery was right in front of them, like two open arms waiting to embrace them.

"The gallery..." Garry voice aloud. "This is the lobby of the gallery." His wide eyes surveyed the room.

"We found the way out of here! Let's go!" Mary said, eagerly clasping Ib's hand in both of hers. She would be able to escape this gallery at last. She would find her way out. She would finally have a friend. She would finally have a life.

Ignoring the message on the wall, Mary stepped through the door, looking around the lobby. The bright lights reflected in her excited eyes. The paintings on the walls were so bright, so real. They were paintings she had never seen before.

Behind the counter, the receptionist smiled. He hadn't noticed that Mary had walked out of the wall. As far as he had seen, she had walked in through the entrance. He did wonder where her parents were, after all, children were unwillingly dragged into the museum by their parents.

Mary grinned, looking at each person in the room, glancing at every painting. A window at the other end, to the left of the reception desk caught her attention. The glass was clean, and beyond it, she could see a parking lot. Colorful cars gleamed in the sunlight.

Her steps were short and hesitant at first. Was this real? Was this a mere dream? Would this world disappear the moment she got too far into it?

She walked faster. Then faster. Then she was running. Running to the window, desperate to see the outside world. She reached the window, her fingers resting on the glass.

She began to cry. The blue sky was so beautiful. The horizon was full of hope, hope for her to escape somewhere, far away from this gallery, far from her painted prison.

Garry noticed Ib was hesitating. She looked anxious, rather scared.

"Are you alright, Ib?" He asked, leaning down and tilting his head to meet her eyes. She looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised, as though she had forgotten his presence.

"Only two..." She began, repeating the words she had just read. She looked towards the wall, biting her lip.

"Hm?" Garry followed her gaze. "Oh." He paused. "I see." His voice sounded sad. All hope and cheerfulness had disappeared. Suddenly, he stood up straight. "Go on, Ib." He said, staring straight ahead. "You should go, join Mary." He was looking into the gallery with longing, sad eyes.

"But..." Ib said, looking up at Garry. She could sense his hopelessness.

"Go."He repeated, a little more forcefully. Tears welled up behind his eyes. He was so close, so very, very close to escaping... And yet he could not go. He couldn't step through the door and leave Ib behind. He would have to keep going, to look for another exit. He noticed Ib was looking at him. "I'll be fine." he said, forcing a smile onto his face. He didn't want her to feel guilty about leaving, and he certainly did not want her to remain in this twisted world any longer. "I'll find another way out, and meet up with you two later." He could not look at Ib. He knew he would break down if he did.

"No." Ib said. Despite Garry's efforts, she could see the small tears in the corners of his eyes. She knew he wanted to leave. She was scared of this world and all the horrifying things that kept chasing after her, but she knew she could find her own way out. She could last a little longer. "You go." She kept her sentences short, unsure of how to word her feelings. She didn't want to be separated from Garry, but she was too scared to tell him that. She didn't want to say anything else, afraid that whatever she said would only further convince him to stay and make her go through the door.

"Ib..." Garry said.

"No! I'm not going!" She raised her voice, crossing her arms and glaring at him. She would do anything necessary to get him through the portal.

"Ib." The tears were gone from Garry's eyes. He felt sort of... happy. He was amused at Ib's attempts, realizing that she was trying to protect him in the same way he was trying to protect her. "I'll meet up with you two later." he repeated. "Go." He gently pushed against her back, trying to force her through the portal.

"No!" Ib spun away from his hand and took off down the hallway they had just come through.

"Ib!" she heard Garry yell. "IB!" He watched her small figure disappear into the darkness of the hallway. With one final, longing glance at the portal, he chased after her. She had intended for him to go through the portal once she left, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't leave with the knowledge that she would be trapped in this wicked world.

Mary spun around to see the portal disappearing on the wall. She ran forward, pressing her hands against the wall. She saw Garry's back as he sprinted away from her.

She turned, and, wiping the tears away from her eyes, looked around the lobby, searching for Ib. If Garry was still on the other side, Ib must be waiting for her somewhere on this side, right?

There was no sign of Ib. Mary was all alone.

Tears streamed down her cheeks again. She had lost the one friend she had finally found. She was alone and so very, very lonely.

A hand materialized on her shoulder. Spinning around, the receptionist quickly pulled his hand away and said, "May I help you young one? Where are your parents?" He gently wiped the warm tears away from her eyes. Holding out his hand, he offered to help her. This simple act of kindness was enough to blow Mary's loneliness away.

She didn't think to question why the portal closed up when only one person got through, and, as she smiled at the kind receptionist, her memories of Ib, Garry, and the world she came from slowly faded. She belonged to this world now.


	2. Chapter 2

Ib ran until she had reached the wall. She felt rather ashamed; she had acted like a child. She could have reasoned with Garry, convinced him to go through the portal, but she hadn't. She would probably never see him again, and the last interaction she had with him was one she would forever regret.

"Ib..." Garry said, standing only a foot behind her. He reached out and gently touched her shoulder.

She spun around. Why was he here? He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be with Mary, back in the real world. He was supposed to have escaped this part of the art gallery.

She didn't speak. She didn't ask. She understood by just looking at him. He wouldn't leave without her just like she wouldn't leave without him.

The door behind Garry had disappeared, replaced by a dark wall. It was as though the door had never existed.

Garry noticed a moment later. He sighed and said, "Well, I guess we have to find another way out. Are you okay sticking with me a little while longer?" Garry asked, looking at Ib. He smiled, amused at the glare she gave him.

Without saying a word, Ib walked off, brushing past Garry with an annoyed expression on her face. She was glad he was still with her, but at the same time, she resented the fact that he had run after her.

Garry followed her up the stairs, past the painting, and through the door leading into the rooms she had explored with Mary. She led him to the staircase leading downwards.

The red statue was still blocking the staircase, facing the painting of the moon on the opposite wall.

Garry joined her, standing directly beside her. "Looks like these stairs go down. Alright, Ib, step back." Garry said. He positioned himself to the side of the stairs, placing both of his hands on the statue, one on the shoulder, one on the hip. Using every ounce of strength that remained after the long, hard day he'd had, he pushed the statue away from the stairs, successfully moving it two feet to the left.

"Whew... Just how many statues have I pushed today?" Garry asked himself, panting. His arms were tired, the muscles aching terribly. He had not been very strong before entering the museum, so all this physical labor was taking it's toll on his muscles. "Oh well." He sighed, rubbing his right arm. "Let's go!" He looked at Ib, relieved to see the annoyed look had disappeared from her young face.

Ib walked ahead of him, cautiously taking the lead and walking down the darkened stairs, one at a time. Ahead of them was a thick black veil shrouding the rest of the stairs. Ib reached out to leaned against the right wall, letting it guide her further down the stairs. She heard Garry moving behind her. He had nearly lost his balance when the light started disappearing.

Ib took a few more steps in complete, pitch-black darkness before noticing a change in the atmosphere. The air had gotten colder, much colder, and she could faintly see the outline of the steps in front of her.

Her fingers lost the walls and she wobbled slightly, quickly catching her balance. She reached out with her left hand but found no wall on that side either.

Turning around to look at Garry, she noticed he had stopped using the wall as a guide too. He grimaced, his expression telling her he felt uneasy about the change of scenery.

Ib went down one more step, carefully placing her foot on the carpeted decline before noticing the white lights dancing on the ceiling above her. The little lights seems miles away, like shooting stars on a clear night sky. The sight comforted her a little, reminding her of warm nights at home, lying on the grass in her backyard looking up at the constellations.

She continued going downstairs, lost in her thoughts. Something rushed past her, creating a gentle breeze. She didn't have time to see what the object was. It resembled a large white jellyfish. Garry fidgeted behind her.

Further down, something else flew past, this time behind her. She heard Garry turn around, clearly startled by the sudden movement.

The stairs stopped twenty steps later. The path in front of her was also pink and meandered to the right. The ground looked like a scribbled mess of pink and magenta lines. The walls had reappeared, but they were farther away, standing many feet from the past. The starry image was now littered with drawings of moons, hearts, flowers, suns; anything that a young child would draw int he margins of their coloring book. They seemed to have been drawn with large crayons.

The air was freezing and stale, like a basement that hadn't been opened for years.

Ib walked forward, leading the way with Garry close behind her. She knew he was easily scared and would jump back at the slightest provocation, so it was much easier for her to lead the way, even though she was frightened and apprehensive as well.

The path thickened a few feet ahead, becoming a more solid pink. The white lights disappeared from the walls and ceilings, and with them, Ib's fragile sense of comfort.

The walls were decorated to look like a night sky drawn by a child with colorful crayons. A colorful mass fell from the ceiling, slipping through the floor without a trace. Ib blinked several times, trying to force the illusion out of her mind. She continued to walk forward. She stopped without warning when an ax detached from the ceiling and fell in front of her, slipping through the floor as well. Turning around, she could tell that Garry had seen it too and that he was just as freaked out as she was. What if they had fallen on her? He ruffled her hair. It was his way of silently telling her everything would be okay.

Nothing else fell from the ceiling as they walked towards a turn in the path. The word "Sketchbook" had been sloppily scribbled on the wall to their right. The arrow attached to it directed them forward. Ib exchanged worried looks with Garry before continuing forward.

"Well, now..." Garry said, looking at the flowers that were drawn on their right. "This is a significant change in atmosphere..."

Indeed it was. The air had gotten even colder and smelled of the dusty paper from old books. The floor had become a neon pink that was hard to look at.

Garry put his hand on Ib's shoulder. "But nothing we can't handle." he continued. "Let's go, Ib." He smiled, trying his hardest to be somewhat reassuring. He closed his shaking hands into fists at his sides. He had had enough of this place.

Yellow and orange tulips were planted on their right. They looked like a child's drawing that was standing upright as if planted in the ground.

A small white house stood ahead of them, just past an intersection of pink lines. The roof was a bright red, as red as Ib's eyes. A blue square had been drawn on one side of it, like a child's representation of a window. The "door" was a rounded out rectangle with a yellow sphere in the middle. A gray chimney loomed above the roof.

Ib cautiously approached the brown door and reached for the yellow sphere. It was cold beneath her fingers but turned easily in her hand. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, closely followed by Garry.

The house had a single room with grey walls and a large portrait of a man with a crooked smile on the wall opposite to the door. To the right of the portrait hung a clock that was forever frozen at 9 o'clock.

On the left, positioned against the wall was an oak bookshelf. Ib felt drawn towards the colorful spine. She walked towards it, hitting her hand against the low table as she passed it.

Upon closer examination, she could see words scrawled on the spines of the books. "What?" Garry asked behind her. He leaned forward and looked over her head at the titles. "These are all story books..." he muttered.

Indeed they were. There was "Little Red Riding Hood," "Sleeping Beauty," "Snow White," and several other titles Ib remembered reading when she was younger.

Ib looked around at the rest of the room. There wasn't anything that would help them leave, so there was really no point in staying any longer. She led the way out the front door, letting it close gently behind her.

A few feet to the right stood a sign. A white paper labeled "Bulletin Board" had been pasted onto the dark wood, but there was no bulletins to read. Blue flowers surrounded the left side of the bulletin board while a lonely yellow flower grew on the left.

An intersection stood before a large white building with a green roof. On that building there was a picture of a paint palette with various colors on it. The door was black. Ib reached forward and touched the cool handle, surprised when it wouldn't turn. The door was locked. On the other side of the building was a similar door, also locked. Ib frowned and continued, turned right at the corner.

A short distance down the path was a small sign. "Down to Gallery was scrawled on the white surface. The wooden post keeping it upright was worn and old. Ib looked back at the building. So it's a gallery huh? She wondered what was locked in there.

Following the path, Ib stopped at a small clearing. Yellow butterflies rushed up to greet her. Their thin yellow wings brushed against her skin. She held out her hand. One of the three landed in her palm. The flapping wings sent a gently breeze through her fingers.

She relaxed a little. For once she had found something that wasn't sinister, something that didn't try to hurt her. She smiled, looking back at Garry with sparkling eyes. He smiled back but stayed at the edge of the clearing. With everything that had happened, he was wary of what those butterflies could do. He cleared his throat as a subtle signal to say they should get going. Ib walked back to him, still smiling.

She led the way past a few trees to a small house with a brown door and a blue roof. She frowned. This door was locked too. A few black lines cut across the middle of the door, which was her eye level. She looked closer and saw that the lines were words. "There are instructions on the pink building! Read them to open this door." she read aloud. She looked at Garry who scowled.

"Such a kind message," he said. "it wraps around to suspicious..." He shrugged and put his hands in the pocket of his coat. She took this to mean there was nothing they could do but look for the pink building, so she walked ahead, past the house.

The building mentioned in the message was a few feet ahead. It had a black roof and brown double doors. She scanned the walls, slowly walking around to look for the instructions. To the right of the doors were words scrawled in blue.

"The Pink Key is always kept in the toy box." she read.

"The toy box...?" Garry asked, his head cocked to the side. He shrugged again. "I guess there's a key there. Let's find it, Ib!" He seemed excited now. For the first time since they had entered this strange part of the museum, they had a clue. They had something that would lead them forward. All they had to do was find this alleged "toy box" and look inside for the key.

Ib walked down the path behind the house, surprised to see a lot more flowers. Tulips in red, blue, and yellow lined the pathway leading to a large house. Ib wondered if these tulips had anything to do with the roses the three of them carried. Were their roses grown here too?

Like all the other doors, the house was locked. Ib stormed down the path to the right, frustrated. How would they ever find the toy box if everywhere they went was locked?

The next door she found wasn't locked, it was frozen over. She reached forward and placed her hand on the ice. She shivered but stayed put, hoping to melt the ice. She couldn't. No matter how long she waited, the ice didn't melt. She pulled her hand away. It wasn't wet at all, just cold.

Garry shared her confusion. He took her shaking hand into his warm one and lead her away from the ice door.

Ib took the lead again when they passed the house surrounded by tulips. She continued until she came to a large blue lake. Fish swam to the surface, then disappeared again. The deep blue color was mesmerizing...

"... Ib, make sure you don't fall in while you're spacing out." Garry said, pulling her back a couple steps. She let go of his hand, running her fingers through the water. It was lukewarm. She thought of how nice it would be to take a break and go swimming in the lake, surrounded by the small fish. She walked away, leading Garry down the next path.

They came to an intersection lined with bare trees. The area was cold, like a winter morning.

There was nowhere else to go. The pair had been everywhere.

A butterfly flew in front of Ib. It rested on her arm, gently flapping its wings. It flew ahead, then back, repeating a few times before Ib understood the message. The butterfly was trying to lead her forward.

She followed it, with Garry following her, to the house with the first message. She reached forward to the doorknob, bracing herself for disappointment when it didn't turn.

The door opened. Surprised, she took a tentative step in.

The room was large and separated by a wall that ran halfway from the door to the other end. A rectangular wooden table with a gray vase full of deformed red flowers was in the middle of the room. Ib walked forward until she reached the wall. Behind it, against another wall, stood a large dresser with two drawers. There was a small blue bucket sitting next to a pink stuffed bunny in front of the dresser. Ib had an idea.

She walked to the bucket, picking it up with her small hands. She would fill this with water and hopefully melt the door. Maybe using water would work, maybe the lukewarm water would be enough.

She ran out the door, down the different pathways, and to the lake. The lukewarm water barely made a sound as it rushed into the bucket. Running past the tulip house, she stopped in front of the frozen door, throwing the bucket of water on it.

Nothing happened. The water slid right off the ice and pooled on the ground by her feet.

This wasn't what she was supposed to do. She looked at Garry. He seemed to be thinking of something, but she couldn't tell what it was.

He grabbed the bucket, leading her back to the lake where he refilled it. He continued past the dead trees until he reached the first house they had wandered upon. The path leading back to where they had come was gone. There was no way out of this "sketchbook."

The flower on the right side of the house was only a bud. He threw the water on it. The flower bloomed, becoming a light blue tulip.

Ib leaned forward, curious. There was something inside the tulip...

She picked up a small key that was the same color as the flower. A large "G" had been inscribed on the handle of the key. G for... Gallery!

She hurried past the house and to the first door of the gallery, Garry close behind her. She reached forward and slipped the small key into the hole underneath the doorknob. It fit perfectly.

The door opened.

The gallery was a single room. On the wall opposite to the door she had come in from were pictures, one of her and one of Garry. She was smiling and holding her rose while Garry was frowning. His rose had lost a petal. Garry shivered behind her.

Halfway down the narrow room was a box. Two words-"Pandora's box"-were scrawled in pink on the wall behind it. On the other side of the wall there were two more pictures, one of Mary jumping excitedly and one of a small troll doll with a yellow rose.

Garry didn't notice the pictures. He was standing in front of the box. "Pandora's Box, huh..." he said, reaching down to lift the lid. Oddly shaped objects flew out of the box, dissipating into the air above them. "I wonder what all that was..." Garry said, staring at where they had been. He looked back down, "...Ah? There's something left in the box."

Ib looked over. A little mirror sat on the dark bottom of the box. She could see her reflection next to Garry's. Both of them looked really tired.

"A mirror..." Garry said, picking it up. "Well, let's just hope it's hope." He slipped it into his pocket.

Ib could tell from the expression on his face when he looked up at the rest of the wall that the little troll doll gave him the creeps. She led the way out the door.

The world outside was different now than when they had left it... Returning to the butterfly park, Ib noticed there were four now instead of only three. The newest one was orange.

Garry hesitantly walked towards it. "This butterfly has an eye pattern on it..." he pointed out. It reminded Ib of the butterflies she saw at home in her backyard. She missed her home.

She turned away from the butterfly. Thoughts like that were dangerous. She continued down the path until she was almost at the corner. A sun had appeared on the wall, sending light down to the path. She took a step into the light. It was warm, almost like real sunlight.

Garry relaxed a bit. "I have to say," he started, looking down at Ib with a smile, gentle smile. "We've come a long way, us two." He frowned a bit, looking around. "I wonder when we'll get out? My feet are starting to get sore..." He sighed. Then, noticing Ib felt uncomfortable, he changed the subject."Say, Ib... Have you heard of macarons? They're these pastries shaped like hamburgers. And just the other day, I had one at a cafe and it was sooo tasty! It was really, really good! Even the cream wasn't too sweet! So, uh, if we get out of her, could we go there together?... No, wait. We WILL be going there! And we will get out! I promise!" He smiled down at Ib. She felt like a younger sister to him, someone he could buy cute things for, who would look up, smile, and thank him for theh most menial things, just like she was smiling now. He continued talking. "Ah, it's warm. But this is a fake sun, isn't it? I hope we get to see a real sky again soon..." Ib nodded, looking at the fake sun. "Why, I feel like I could fall asleep right here..." he paused, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the light. "T-That was dangerous. I was really about to doze off. Ib, let's get going." He stepped out of the sunlight. The anxious look on his face made Ib smile wider. He was as dorky as she had imagined an older brother would be.

Ib looked behind Garry and saw the door. The frozen over door that water couldn't melt... She had an idea.

She pointed to Garry's pocket, silently asking him to take the mirror out of his pocket. He handed it to her.

Stepping out of the light, she placed the mirror down and angled the refraction towards the door. It worked; the ice melted and feel to the floor light a short waterfall.

"Ah! The ice on the door melted...!" Garry exclaimed. "I see now... You reflected the sunlight. Not too shabbyyy!" He grinned, walking towards the door. Ib followed.

The room was very small and had no furniture. The wall opposite to the door was adorned with a maze of designs. The floor had a diagram with a small button popping out at each vertex.

It didn't take long for Garry and Ib to realize the maze on the wall and the diagram on the floor was related to Pandora's box. They ran around, going down the pathways, looking for the symbols. Their locations were represented on the floor diagram, with a switch for each symbol. With Garry watching carefully and guiding her, Ib stepped on each switch in order.

A little golden key fell from the ceiling when she activated the last one. It landed in the middle of the room. Ib picked up it, holding it carefully between two fingers. The fragile plastic seemed like it could crumble to pieces.

Ib looked at Garry. He shrugged. He had no idea where the little yellow key could go...

Ib walked out and, without waiting for Garry to catch up, walked back to the little house with the yellow heart on the door. The color of the heart matched the color of the key...

She reached for the keyhole. The key fit. The lock turned. The door opened. Garry walked in behind her.

There was only one room in the whole house. A blue box with the lid open sat against the wall at the other end of the room. It looked like... a toy box!

Ib exchanged glances with Garry before walking forward. Carefully placing both hands on the rim of the blue box, she carefully peered over the edge.

Everything inside was pitch black. She couldn't see the bottom of the box, if there was one. She looked over at Garry whose wide eyes were scanning the darkness. They didn't have a choice. They would have to jump...

Ib climbed over the edge of the box and, ignoring Garry's protests and his attempt to catch her, disappeared into the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Ib landed on the soft, padded floor. The impact sent a slight jolt up her legs and spine, but she wasn't hurt. The floor here, unlike in the rest of the museum, was soft and squishy, like a large plush.

She took a small step forward, her sore foot sinking into the ground.

The wall in front of her contained no designs, unlike the rest of the gallery. The floor beneath her feet, however, was littered with drawings. There were tracks made of a combination of thin wood and weak metal. They ran around in an oval shape, surrounding most of the other drawings that decorated the floor.

She looked around the room, scanning the many drawings. There were several pieces of candy, one of which had been caught by a pink cat that left footprints leading towards the entrance. At the other end of the railroad was a clown that appeared to be waving to the ceiling. It looked happy, with a wide smile and bright green eyes. Its frizzy orange hair covered a large portion of the ground.

As Ib stared at the clown, she realized her rose, which she kept in the small pocket of her shirt, was missing. It must have slipped out when she fell.

With strained, unsteady steps, she ran back to the spot where she'd landed only to see, in her dismay, that the rose was not there. She looked around, her heart pounding faster and faster with each rose-less second. She knew she would die if her rose wilted. She had to find it.

As she walked closer to the wall, she heard a soft _tmp_ close behind her and turned to see Garry lying on the ground close to where she had previously landed. He sat up quickly, eyes alert for any signs of danger. In his hand, the green stem closed in a tight fist, was Ib's rose.

His wide eyes focused on her and relief flooded through his face. He smiled, standing up. In a few short steps he was by her side, holding her rose out. "This fell from your pocket when you jumped." he said as she gently grasped the green stem. As the rose left his hand, she noticed a red stain on the stem, like red paint on one of the thorns. Noticing her gaze, Garry quickly closed his hand into a fist again and pulled it away. Before he could shove his bleeding hand into the pocket of his coat, Ib took his wrist. She pulled his fingers away, her eyes widening when she saw the blood painting his palm. "Oh, that?" he asked, a nervous smile stretching across his face. "That's nothing, just a little scratch." A shaky laughter escaped his lips. He had taken the rose carelessly and stabbed his hand with one of the thorns, but she shouldn't worry about that. It would heal easily.

Letting go of his wrist, Ib reached into the small pocket of her skirt and brought out a silk handkerchief with her name sewn into it in pink thread. Before he could protest, she wrapped the handkerchief tightly around Garry's hand and tied the two ends together in his palm.

"Are you sure about this Ib?" he asked. "You're handkerchief will get stained." She shrugged as a response, indicating that she didn't care. Garry couldn't help but smile. "Thank you Ib." he said.

She silently tucked the rose back into her pocket while he began looking around the room, shuddering every time his eyes met those of the frizzy-haired dolls littering the ground. The mannequin heads were creepy too, but he had grown accustomed to those. Their cold white faces no longer looked like anything more than shapeless blurs.

The dolls, on the other hand, were a whole other story. Their wide, creepy red eyes seemed to stare straight into your soul, as if looking into each of your deepest secrets and waiting to expose them. Their wide grins, stitched into place by thick crimson thread haunted your every waking moment.

He shuddered just thinking about them. Ib looked around the room, wondering where the key the message had mentioned could be hiding. There were various things it could be hiding under, but that seemed unlikely. Most of the things lying on the floor seemed to have been haphazardly tossed there, as if thrown down from the entrance of the box. The key must be lying somewhere around here too.

With one last glance at Garry, who was still engaged in a staring contest with a doll, Ib began walking once more, carefully placing one foot in front of the other and trying not to trip. Garry felt the movement near him and broke away from the doll, turning to face her. He opened his mouth as if to warn her to be careful, but thought better of it.

Instead, he watch her pick her path, walking towards the middle of the room. She reminded him of his little sister. He wanted nothing more than to protect her but he understood that she could take care of herself. He smiled as he thought of his little sister, who always got mad at him when he treated her like a kid. He wished he could be home, reading her one of her favorite books like he used to.

Shaking the images out of his mind, he walked over to Ib. As he arrived where she had paused, she bent down, reaching for something on the ground, Her thin frame hid his view until she stood, holding the key in her small, delicate hands. She turned around to face him, a small smile on her otherwise blank face. The tiny amount of excitement hidden in her eyes gave her true feelings away. She was looking forward to getting out of this gallery and going home too.

He smiled back, sharing her excitement. This key would bring them one step closer to leaving this nightmare behind.

She broke eye contact first, glancing back at the small plastic key nestled in her hands. Would this be enough to get them home? She gently closed her fingers around the cold plastic.

She lead the way to the open doorway at the other end of the room. As far as she had seen, that was the only exit short of climbing the walls to get back out of the box.

Garry followed her silently, forcing himself to stare straight ahead instead of at the ground for fear of seeing another doll. He was so sick of seeing them.

A short flight of blue-carpeted stairs took them to a long, narrow hallway. There were no pictures on the walls or floors other than cyan stars, nor were there any dolls or mannequin heads lying around. The absence of creepy images was appreciated by both of them.

The next set of stairs, at the other end of the hallway, lead them to a small room with pink walls. The wall to directly in front of them was covering in green vines, the occasional yellow rose sprouting from the thorn-less vines. Both of them looked at the wall for a moment before heading to the door standing on the right side of the stairs.

It was a short walk back to the pink house. The key fit easily into the lock and turned, allowing the two to open the thin plastic door.

The room was large and held only two things, a large painting of some strange scene filled with people and an blank canvas. The larger painting was a blur of colors and lines. It looked strangely like the art gallery...

Between the blurry painting and the blank, white canvas was a few lines of magenta paint on the wall. Ib saw them first and knelt down the read them while Garry examined the other painting.

She heard the rustling of his coat as he moved behind her, leaning down a little to read the words on the wall. She knew trying to block his view would be useless.

Instead, she stood and turned to face him, meeting his eyes for one last time. She was absolutely determined not to let him see her sadness. She had to put on a brave face, otherwise he would try to stop her. She couldn't let him do that.

She knew how much he wanted to get home. She knew how sick he was of this gallery. She didn't have any other choice.

She reached out and hugged him, wrapping her thin arms around his skinny waist. For a moment she let herself believe she was hugging her father instead of some man she had only known for a day. She forced her tears back.

"Ib! What-" Garry started to ask, surprised at the sudden embrace. Instead of finishing his phrase, he awkwardly placed his hands on her back in an attempt to hug her back. He really didn't know what to do.

Pulling away, Ib kept her gaze down as she turned away from Garry. She knew that if she saw his face she would cry. She didn't want him to see her cry.

She knew he was watching her, one eyebrow raised, as she took three steps to the left. With one final, deep breath, she ran forward and leaped into the empty canvas. The blank white rectangle seemed to suck her in with no effort.

Garry's eyes widened. What was that about just now? Where had she disappeared to?

His gaze was drawn back to the magenta words scribbled on the wall. "Only one person can go through each portal," he read aloud, muttering the words under his breath. "Whomever jumps into the one on the right will return to the gallery while whomever jumps into the canvas on the left will..." His eyes widened more. He pulled away.

He feet took a few steps back, moving on their own. Had he read those words correctly? He looked at them again, reading them over and over again.

His knees refused to keep him up. He hit the ground with a soft _thump_.

He looked at the empty canvas. It was no longer empty. The white canvas was no longer white. It contained the picture of a girl with brown hair and bright red eyes. She smiled sadly, her large eyes brimmed with tears. The rose the was usually in her hand was on the floor in front of her feet as though she had given up and dropped it to indicate she no longer had use for it. The portrait seemed so lifelike.

"Ib...?" Garry asked the portrait, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He crawled over, not trusting himself to walk. "Ib...?" he asked again, a little louder this time. He reached for the canvas with his bandaged hand. Small tears pricked his eyes.

"IB!" he screamed, his numb fingers touching the cold paper canvas. Tears streamed down his face. "IB!" He kept screaming her name louder and louder as though she would hear him is he was loud enough.

His hoarse voice could barely squeeze out between loud sobs. "We were supposed to make it out of here together." he said, his hand still touching the portrait. He looked into the girl's eyes as though meeting her stationary, painted gaze would make her hear him. "We were supposed to leave this all behind." He looked down, unable to keep his eyes on hers. He felt a tightness in his chest as he cried, an unbelievable sadness that threatened to tear him to pieces.

"We were supposed to go to a cafe; I was supposed to treat you to some macaroons." he whispered, staring at his hand through blurred vision. He knew the white blur that had taken it's place was Ib's handkerchief. "How am I supposed to give this back to you?" he asked, his voice dying at the end.

The tears kept streaming out uncontrollably, running down his face and landing on the handkerchief wrapped around his hand. His tears soaked through it, the salt stinging the open wound.

He didn't know how long it took before his legs forced him to stand up. He saw he was moving towards the large portrait, but he didn't know why. He couldn't go through it. He couldn't just leave her behind in this cold, heartless gallery.

Or could he? She had sacrificed herself so he could escape. He couldn't let that sacrifice be in vain. He knew she wouldn't want that.

With a heavy heart and leaden limbs, he stepped through the large painting and returned to the world from which he came. As he did, he knew he would never, ever forget the little girl who gave up everything for him. He would never, ever forget Ib.


End file.
